Release
by obsessedwithstabler
Summary: No love, no friendship can cross the path of our destiny without leaving some mark on it forever.
1. Fires Within

Here it is, everybody! My next In Plain Sight story. Basically it takes place directly after their little talk on the roof. Stan isn't leaving the office, and Mary and Marshall are still partners. I've already written out several chapters of this story, and I'm very excited about it. I hope everyone reading will be, too. So read on and enjoy the first chapter of Release.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

IPSIPSIPSIPS

"A friend is one who knows us, but wants us anyway."

- Fr. Jerome Cummings.

"_This, what we have, it's indefinable, and up until now nothing's ever come along to jeopardize that."_

"_Marshall, you're my best friend. You're my only friend. I mean, forget friend, you're - you know."_

"_I know. I love that. But that's the problem."_

"_Because you're getting married."_

"_Yeah. I'm getting married. I love Abigail deeply, and because I do that's why I need you to do something for me."_

"_Anything."_

"_I need you to release me. I need to be free enough to have a life with Abigail, and I need you to be okay enough for that to happen, because if you call I'll come. Every time."_

"_Well, I don't know a lot these days. All I know is that more than anything in the whole world, I want you to be happy. So, I'm going to say this once and only once: I want you to marry Abigail. She makes you happy. I like her and I like you together. I know, I hide it well."_

"_Yeah. Okay. So, shall we get on with the rest of our lives?"_

"_You first."_

Mary sighed as she stood in her living room, a bottle of wine in her hand and the glass on the coffee table behind her. After everything that had transpired in the past few days: her father's death and subsequent funeral, the talk with Marshall that was currently running rampant in her mind, Brandi's pregnancy… she had needed a break. Jinx and Brandi were at Jinx's apartment, and they had insisted on taking Norah with them for the night, sensing that Mary desperately needed a break. Mary was deeply reluctant to let Norah go, but now that she was alone with a bottle of wine, she could finally focus on herself and the mess that had become her life. Grief over her father's death mixed with grief for what she and Marshall could never have.

Suddenly she flung the bottle across the room, and it landed against the wall, shattering into a million pieces. A slight satisfaction crept through her, followed quickly by misery. Why couldn't she have said what she really felt? She had been doing that all of her life. Why was it so fucking hard to do with Marshall? He had laid it out on the line so many times. All she had to do was open her mouth.

_I hate her._

_Don't marry her._

_I think I love you, too._

Every time she saw him, those words sprang to her mind and the tip of her tongue. But they never made it past her lips. Why not? If he knew, if he really _knew_, he would want her, too. Wouldn't he?

It was that unspoken question that made her hesitate. If she told him how she truly felt about him, no sarcasm, no mockery, would he still feel the same? Or would he just give her that sympathetic look and try to let her down as easily as he possibly could? He had Abigail, after all, and she was perfect. She was sweet, beautiful, graceful, never cursed, and his family probably adored her. What was she? Awkward, abrasive, harsh, insensitive at times… Abigail was the girl next door, the perfect type for Marshall. And what was she?

His partner. The woman he worked with, who had his back every goddamn day and had protected him with her life on more than one occasion. But at the end of the day, he went to his home, to Abigail, and she went to her own home. Without him.

And now, she would never have him.

A knock on the front door interrupted her self-incrimination. She contemplated not answering it, until she realized exactly who was knocking.

With a groan, she made her way to the front door, hesitating only briefly before she unlocked it and pulled it open.

Leaned against the doorframe, Marshall watched her with an unreadable expression.

Mary looked him over, slightly confused by his presence. It was late. Shouldn't he have been at home with Abigail? "What are you doing here?"

He didn't answer. Instead he leaned closer to her, so that she could smell the whiskey on him. His eyes, normally a shade of cerulean, were almost slate now, and their intensity burned Mary.

"Marshall…"

Before she could complete that thought, he closed the distance between them. His arm snaked around her, pulling her firmly against his chest. Then, before she could voice a protest, his lips were on hers, hot and probing. It wasn't the first time they had kissed, but it was the first time it had ever felt like this.

A small voice screamed at her to stop him. He was drunk and clearly not thinking straight. But that small voice of reason was quickly drowned out by a much louder voice that begged her to continue.

Marshall sensed her willingness to continue, so he pushed her into the house and kicked the door shut with his foot, all without breaking the kiss. Then he managed to pull his jacket off and kick his shoes off.

She was bewildered at the new, dominant Marshall, but she had no will to stop him. It didn't matter that he was her best friend, or that he was engaged to Abigail. He was there, with her, and if he didn't want to be, he wouldn't be. But he was. Her hands came up and ran through his thick hair as she parted her lips, allowing him access.

He took her invitation, tasting the dark recesses of her mouth. She had been drinking as well, and the whiskey and wine collided together as their tongues dueled for dominance.

Somewhere along the path to her bedroom, they both lost their shirts, and Mary gasped when the backs of her legs hit the foot of the bed. She fell backward onto the mattress, pulling Marshall down with her as well.

Tonight, there would be no regrets, she decided as his lips claimed hers again. No blame, no guilt, nothing.

Just them.

* * *

The next morning, Mary awoke to a splitting headache and an incredibly dry mouth. She blinked slowly and shifted her hips. What had she done last night? Then her foggy mind registered a strong arm draped lazily over her, and her breath caught when she saw Marshall's sleeping face.

What had they done?

Moving as carefully as she could, she slipped out from under him and pushed herself out of the bed. Then she quickly dressed and pulled on a pair of sneakers. She could go get breakfast, then rescue Norah from her mom and sister. By the time she got home, Marshall would be gone, and hopefully they could get on with their lives without making a big deal out of this. Yes, that was what she needed to do.

Once she was dressed and had her keys in hand, she finally glanced back at the bed. Marshall had shifted onto his back with his arm thrown over the spot where she had laid a few minutes before. He looked relaxed and content, but when he woke up, she wasn't sure he would feel the same way. But what if he did? All of her life, she had refused to be a home wrecker, the other woman. She never slept with married or attached men for that reason. But now she had broken that rule, because Marshall was happy and engaged. Had she just ruined that, and consequently, their friendship? How could she live with herself?

Sighing, she tore her gaze away from Marshall's sleeping face and walked out of her bedroom.

"I'm sorry, Marshall."

* * *

As she tried not to think about the previous night, Mary drove to her mother's apartment, where Jinx and Brandi were taking care of Norah. She loved her family, even though there were times when she wanted to kill them. They were her family, after all. But she didn't feel comfortable leaving Norah with anyone for an extended amount of time, and truthfully, she desperately needed the distraction. She needed her little girl.

Finally arriving at her mother's home, she jumped out of her car and hurried to the door.

Brandi was on the couch with Norah when her sister barged into the house, and she gave her older sister an amused look. "You okay?"

Mary nodded.

Carefully sitting up, Brandi moved Norah to her almost non-existent lap. "Did you miss her that much?"

"Yeah." It was easier than saying that she had just left her sleeping partner alone in her bed.

Seeing her mother, Norah squealed and babbled happily.

With a quiet sigh, Mary crossed the floor and lifted her little daughter into her arms. Norah happily snuggled against her mother, and Mary looked at her younger sister. "How are you feeling, Squish?"

Brandi absently placed a hand on her swollen belly. "Okay. But this baby likes to try and bruise my ribs."

Mary laughed softly and ran her thumb along Norah's cheek. "Norah did that to me, too."

"I don't know how you did it," Brandi said theatrically as she stretched out on the couch cushions and flung her arm over her eyes.

"I didn't have a choice." But that wasn't the truth. She did have a choice. She just didn't have it in her to do anything but carry her baby to term, which of course couldn't even happen as it was supposed to. Norah had made her arrival almost two months early, much to Mary's chagrin. She didn't remember much about the delivery, but the first time she touched Norah, she knew that she wanted to keep her. Norah was hers and hers alone. She had been since her mother first knew about her, even if her mother didn't know.

Now Brandi was going to be a mother as well, and Mary was still reeling from the news.

She could hear Jinx moving around in the kitchen, singing something to herself. Mary blanched and grabbed Norah's diaper bag. "I'm going to get out of here, Squish. Thanks for watching Nor for me."

"I love watching her, Mary." Brandi rubbed her swollen belly absently. "It's good practice."

"I'm sure." She gave her little sister a smile. "See you later, Squish."

"Bye, Mare."

Slinging Norah's diaper bag over her shoulder, Mary walked out of the house and back to her car. Norah babbled and chewed on her fingers as her mother placed her carefully in her carseat and fastened her in. Once she was securely in her seat, Mary closed the back door and got into the driver's seat.

She had a lot of thinking to do.

* * *

Marshall awoke to a pounding in his head and a terrible taste in his mouth. He reached out, expecting to pull Abigail into his arms. But all his hand found was an expanse of cool, empty nothingness. He frowned and slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the natural sunlight. He wasn't in his bedroom.

Where the hell was he?

Cautiously he sat up, and the room spun around him. He swallowed hard as he finally recognized his surroundings. He was in Mary's bedroom. What the hell was he doing there?

_Breathe_, he told himself. Maybe he had just gotten drunk and shown up at Mary's, and she had let him sleep in her bed. It had happened before, except when it had happened, she had made him sleep on her couch. How had he wound up in her bed, and where had she slept?

He pushed the covers back and breathed unevenly when he realized that he wasn't wearing any clothing.

_No_…

With a gasp, he closed his eyes as the memories slammed into his throbbing head. His lips on Mary's, her hands on his body, their breaths mingling together…

Groaning, he stumbled out of his bed and searched for his clothes. Once he was dressed, he yanked his shoes on. Mary was nowhere in the house, and he didn't know whether to be sad or relieved about that. He had no idea what he was going to say to her. All he knew was that he needed to get home to Abigail and sort through the mess in his head.

He took care to lock up Mary's home before he walked out. His truck was nowhere to be seen, and he didn't have his cell phone. Finally he gave up and began walking, the pounding in his head steadily worsening with each step he took.

When he finally made it home, he was highly surprised to find Abigail still sleeping in their bed. As quietly as he could managed, he took a brief shower before crawling into bed with his fiancé. He rested his head on the pillow and pulled her firmly against his chest.

What the hell was he going to do?

* * *

By the time Mary arrived at home with Norah, she was not sure how she felt finding the house empty. She put Norah's diaper bag down by the door, then set Norah on the floor. She had baby proofed her entire home long before Norah was even able to lift her own head. Perfectly convinced that she was safe, she had no problem letting her little girl crawl around on her own.

She wandered into the bedroom, in case Marshall was sleeping. He wasn't there. The bed was messy, and all of his clothes were gone. He must have woken up and went back home. She was unsure how she felt about all of that. Despite everything her head told her, her heart wanted him. But she could never have him, or so she thought.

With a soft sigh, she left the bedroom and went to find her baby girl. Norah was pushing herself up away from the floor, and she giggled and cooed when her mother came into her line of vision.

Smiling sadly, Mary sat down in front of her daughter and pulled her into her lap. Norah happily snuggled into her mother and babbled softly.

Mary kissed Norah's head softly and held her close.

"Everything is going to be okay, Bug. I promise."

She just didn't know how it would.

To Be Continued...


	2. Fools Such As We

Thanks for the awesome reviews for the first chapter, everybody! A lot of you had suggestions and ideas about where this story is going to go. Let me just say that I think what is coming has never been done in this fandom before. I hope everyone will enjoy it!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

IPSIPSIPSIPS

"Mary."

Mary looked up from her paperwork, her trademark scowl in place. "What?"

Delia smiled at her and handed her a Styrofoam box. "Lunch has arrived."

"Libations!" Mary enthused, snatching the box out of Delia's hand as she spared Marshall a glance.

Six weeks had passed since that night, and they still hadn't spoken about it. There was an awkward understanding between them, and neither had been brave enough to broach the subject. Instead, they started spending even less time together outside of work, and when they did talk, it rarely extended beyond work and pleasantries. Mary wasn't used to that, especially at a time in her life when everything was changing, and she needed him the most. Brandi was due to deliver her baby in less than a week, Marshall and Abigail were continuing with their wedding plans, and to top it off, Norah was teething and Mary was convinced that she was coming down with the flu. Their lives were changing with impossible speed, and Mary found herself constantly toeing the edge.

Sighing, Mary unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite. It was a reuben with pickles, something that she often ordered at work. But as she swallowed the first bite, her stomach suddenly turned. She set the sandwich down.

Delia watched Mary curiously. "Are you okay, Mary?"

Mary waved a hand. "Fine." But a moment later, she suddenly jumped up and rushed toward the closest bathroom.

Marshall watched her go with a worried frown. For the past six weeks, he had barely spoken to her unless it was necessary, but he was so afraid of saying the wrong thing, so he kept his mouth shut, which killed him. She was his best friend, the other half of him. Abigail was the woman that he was going to marry, and loved her deeply, but Mary was something else to him entirely. She worked beside him every day, sometimes well into the night. She knew everything about him, including things that Abigail wasn't even privileged to. And he was slowly destroying their friendship, all because he had made one horrible mistake.

Enough was enough.

Getting up from his desk, Marshall quickly jogged to the women's bathroom, where he knew that he would find Mary. With no thought for the sign on the door, he pushed it open and softly called out to her. "Mary?"

The sound of retching reached his sharp ears, and he frowned. She hadn't been feeling well; he could tell just by watching her the past few days. Something was definitely…off. "Mare, are you okay?"

Mary scowled when she heard Marshall's tentative voice. "What the hell are you doing in here?" she demanded just before retching again.

Her stall was the only one occupied, so Marshall ventured further into the bathroom. "I was worried." Reaching her stall, he slowly pushed the door open. Mary was on her knees in front of the toilet, clutching the bowl with one hand and holding her hair back with the other. A sympathetic sigh passed his lips as he knelt down behind her and gently brushed her hand away. Then he held her hair back with one hand and rubbed her back with the other. "Shh…"

Finally her stomach was empty, and she flushed the toilet. Then she turned around until she was facing Marshall. Her expression was a mixture of misery, confusion and resentment.

He brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Maybe you should go home," he murmured.

"I'm fine," she growled, brushing his hand away.

"You're not fine," he argued, lightly touching her forehead. "You have a fever, and you're throwing up. You probably have the flu. The best thing you can do is to get plenty of liquids and rest."

Shaking slightly, Mary pushed Marshall away and got to her feet. He had barely spoken to her in weeks, and _now_ he was concerned? "I'm fine. Just…leave me alone." She moved around him and went to the closest sink to splash cold water on her face.

He sighed and followed her. "Mary, I know things have been…crazy lately…"

She spun around with a look of anger. "Crazy? That doesn't even begin to cover it, Marshall!"

He could feel his own temper rising. "We did something incredibly stupid, something we never should have done. But I don't want to lose you as a friend."

"I think it's too late for that."

A surprised expression tinged with pain touched his handsome face. "What are you saying, Mare?"

Sighing, she shook her head and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "I don't-" Her phone suddenly went off in her pocket. Without thinking, she reached for it and hit a button. "Hello?"

"Mary?" Brandi's small and frightened voice was on the other end.

Immediately Mary's anger dissipated. "Squish? What's wrong?"

"I think… I'm having contractions."

Immediately Mary moved away from Marshall and headed toward the door. "Okay, Squish, calm down. Is Mom there?"

"No. She has a lesson." Brandi winced as another contraction rippled through her abdomen.

"That's okay," Mary soothed her baby sister. "Just sit down and try to relax. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Marshall was listening to the conversation. He followed Mary out of the bathroom and back to their desks, where he grabbed his keys and both of their jackets. Shoving Mary's jacket toward her, he ignored the dirty look she gave him.

"Mary, I'm scared," Brandi whispered.

"Everything is going to be okay, Squish," Mary reassured her as she reluctantly let Marshall usher her outside and to her car. "I promise, everything is going to be okay."

Marshall waited for Mary to get into the passenger's seat before he got into the driver's seat and pointed her car in the direction of Jinx's home.

Thanks to Marshall's driving, they arrived at Jinx's home in record time. Before Marshall could even bring the car to a complete stop, Mary flung the door open and jumped out, running into her mother's home. Marshall stayed where he was and kept the engine going.

Mary rushed into the house and called for her sister. "Brandi?"

There was a pained moan in response to her call, one that made her especially nervous. Mary followed the sound into Jinx's bedroom, where she found Brandi on the bed, gasping. "Squish? Come on, we have to get you to the hospital."

"Don't think I can," Brandi gasped, clutching her swollen belly.

"What?" Mary rushed over to the bed. "Oh, no, no, no, we have to get you to the hospital." She and Marshall both were trained to handle emergency childbirths, but she wasn't prepared to deal with this.

Brandi suddenly let out an ear-splitting scream. Her hair was soaked and her face was bright red. Her eyes were glazed with pain, and tear tracks were evident on her face.

Outside, Marshall heard the scream, and he got out of the car. His concern for both of the Shannon women drove him into the house. "Mary? What's going on?"

"Get in here, Marshall!" Mary shouted in response, but she was relieved to hear his voice.

Marshall skidded to a stop just inside of the room. "What's-"

"Brandi doesn't think she can make it to the hospital," Mary cut him off.

His training took over immediately. Removing his jacket, Marshall moved to the bed and stacked more pillows behind Brandi's head and back. "Mary, call 911," he said calmly. Then he flashed Brandi what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Okay, Brandi, just keep breathing."

Brandi moaned in pain as her sister reached for her phone and made a curt call to 911, demanding that paramedics be sent as fast as humanly possible.

Trying to preserve as much of her dignity as possible, Marshall made quick work of Brandi's pajama bottoms. "Brandi, honey, I need you to bend your legs at the knees."

Brandi slowly complied, but her breathing was still rapid and uneven.

Finished with the call, Mary quickly went to her car and grabbed the first aid kit, along with a few other things. Then she ran back inside, stopping briefly in the bathroom for towels before she returned to the bedroom. "Marshall." She set everything down and retrieved a pair of gloves, tossing them to her partner.

Marshall caught the gloves and slipped them on before he gently pried Brandi's knees apart.

Mary leaned over Marshall's shoulder, and he murmured, "She's almost fully dilated, Mare. We can't move her."

The older Shannon sister couldn't stifle a groan. Always with the theatrics… "The paramedics will be here soon."

"Not soon enough," Marshall muttered as Brandi cried through another contraction. "This baby is coming now." He looked at Mary, trying to convey reassurance. "Mare, get behind her and support her. Let her push against you."

Everything felt so surreal, and Mary was slow to react. But after a gentle nudge from Marshall, she slid in behind Brandi and let her sister settle back against her.

After a few moments, Marshall gently rested his hands on Brandi's knees. "You're doing good, Brandi. On your next contraction, I want you to push."

Brandi nodded breathlessly. The next contraction hit with brutal force, and her body tensed as she bore down and pushed.

Mary held her sister and murmured encouragement to her. She had never seen this coming, even though her own little girl had arrived almost two months early. She supposed that Shannon women just loved dramatic entrances…

"You're doing great, Brandi," Marshall praised. "Remember to breathe."

On the next contraction, Marshall looked up briefly at Mary and Brandi. "I can see the head, Brandi. Keep pushing."

Brandi clung to her sister's hands, sucking in a harsh breath before crying out again.

"Good job, good job…" Marshall cradled the baby's head in his hand as it emerged, followed quickly by the shoulders. He continued to praise Brandi and urge her to push as he eased the baby's shoulders out. Once they were out, the rest of the tiny body quickly emerged.

Brandi collapsed against her sister moments later, sobbing softly as the baby took its first breaths and began to squeal a protest at the loss of warmth and life inside Mommy.

Moving quickly, Marshall clamped off the umbilical cord. Then he wrapped the newborn in one of the soft, clean towels and brought the squirming bundle against his chest.

Mary couldn't help but stare at the awe and joy on Marshall's face as he tenderly cradled the newborn to his chest. Something indescribable stirred within her, something she didn't recognize. She finally tore her eyes away and looked down at her little sister, whose eyes were closed.

Slowly sliding off of the bed, Marshall moved to Brandi's side. "Congratulations, Brandi," he murmured with a warm smile. "You have a beautiful little girl."

Brandi forced her eyes open and held her arms out.

With only a moment of hesitation, Marshall leaned down and gently placed the newborn in Brandi's arms. Immediately the little girl settled down, and Mary found herself unable to do anything but stare at the tiny red face.

Weeping softly, Brandi kissed her little girl. "Hi, baby girl…"

Mary and Marshall's eyes met, and they shared a fleeting moment as paramedics suddenly swarmed the room. Mary reluctantly slid off of the bed and stood beside Marshall as the medics checked Brandi's blood pressure and prepared to move her. Through it all, Brandi refused to surrender her precious baby girl.

As she was being checked out, Mary turned to Marshall. Despite being covered in blood and other stuff that Mary would have preferred not to have seen, he looked triumphant and deliriously happy. Mary couldn't help returning his smile.

Without hesitation, Marshall reached out and wrapped his arms around his partner, pulling her firmly against himself and resting his head on hers. He was elated, and he couldn't resist holding her tight.

Mary tensed at first, but after a moment, she settled into his embrace and closed her eyes.

Brandi's weak voice interrupted the tender moment. "Mary…?"

Mary reluctantly pulled away from Marshall and returned to her sister's side. "What is it, Squish?"

"Ride with me?"

The older Shannon looked at one of the paramedics, who nodded.

"You can ride along."

"Great." Mary spared Marshall a glance, and their eyes locked for a moment. All of the anger and resentment that had boiled between them was set aside in favor of the joy and novelty of the past half hour. An unspoken understanding passed between them, and they both felt something shift.

Mary broke the gaze, but favored him with a soft smile before she followed her sister's stretcher out of the bedroom.

Suddenly Marshall was alone in Jinx's bedroom, and a strange sense of unease and longing washed over him. Reaching into his pocket, he dialed a familiar number and held the phone up to his ear.

"Abs? Hi, sweetheart. Yeah, something came up. I'm going to come home a little early…"

He slipped out of the bedroom, glad that he'd left Mary's keys in his pocket. He could take her car home and bring it back to her when she called.

"There's something I want to talk to you about…"

* * *

An hour later, Mary sat in her sister's hospital room, surprisingly drained. Brandi was asleep in her hospital bed, her long lashes fluttering against her cheeks. Jinx was still nowhere to be found.

Mary looked down at the newborn cuddled in her arms. It seemed almost impossible that it had been nine months since she gave birth to her own little girl, and yet, it felt like a lifetime ago. Luckily Mark was fine with keeping Norah for a little while longer, in light of Brandi's delivery. She had sent a text to Marshall, but he hadn't responded yet. So Mary focused all of her attention on her brand new niece.

The yet-to-be-named baby girl slept serenely in her aunt's arms, unaware of her spectacular entrance into the world. Mary marveled at the size of her. At a respectable seven pounds and two ounces, Baby Girl Shannon was almost twice the size of her cousin when she was born. Mary shifted the baby and was once more amazed by the difference three pounds made. When she had been born, Norah was almost elfin. She was so small and frail, having made her entrance into the world almost two months too early. Baby Girl Shannon was at a good weight, with a set of lungs to rival her mother's.

Mary had to smile again as she remembered Marshall's expression. He had mentioned a couple of times in passing that he wanted children of his own. He would make an amazing father, if today was any indication. Abigail would probably be all too happy to bear his children.

Her grip on her good mood started to loosen. With a sigh, Mary laid the newborn carefully in her isolette. Then she walked across the floor, coming to a stop in front of a window. Outside, the world continued on as usual. People walked down the sidewalk, cars moved slowly in a traffic jam, and there was the faint sound of a distant siren. Everything went on as it always did, yet Mary felt trapped, suffocated. Suddenly the need to see Marshall overwhelmed her, and her hand slipped into her pocket. She had never been the needy kind; she hated being dependant on anyone for anything. But Marshall…

She sighed and sent him another text message.

_I need to talk to you._

Brief, succinct, her. She slid her phone back into her pocket and rested her head against the cool glass of the window.

"What are we doing, Marshall?"

* * *

After a quick stop at his favorite gym for a brief shower, Marshall drove to the office and told Stan and Delia what had happened. Stan had slapped him on the back and shook his hand, and Delia had squealed and hugged him. After answering all of their questions, Marshall dropped Mary's keys at her desk and retrieved the keys to his truck. Abigail was waiting for him, but after leaving the office, Marshall stopped for roses and a bottle of nice wine. He heard his phone chirp as he got back into the truck and laid the roses on the passenger seat, but he didn't answer it. He would see Abigail soon enough, and anyone else could wait for a few hours.

Twenty minutes later, he grinned to himself as he gathered the wine and roses, then got out of the truck. He had so much to talk with her about.

Balancing the roses and wine, he unlocked the front door and let himself inside. "Abs? I'm home," he called out.

"Hey, Marshall." Abigail's normally chipper voice was unusually soft and reserved.

Marshall set the roses and wine down on the kitchen counter, then removed his jacket and gun. "You wouldn't believe the day I've had," he enthused. "It was absolutely incredible."

"Really?"

"Yes." Marshall sat down beside Abigail and turned his body toward her. "Mary's sister, Brandi, went into labor. We drove over to Jinx's to take her to the hospital, but as fate would have it, that baby was ready to arrive. Baby Girl Shannon arrived fifteen minutes after we did." The joy on his handsome face was undeniable.

Abigail tried to smile, but her own emotions were eating away at her. Her fingers toyed with the engagement ring on her left hand.

Marshall plowed ahead. "She was so beautiful, and I started to think… What if we started a family of our own?"

"I had an affair."

Everything in the house suddenly went silent.

Marshall leaned back, his cerulean eyes searching her face. He didn't know how to respond to that. He was guilty of the same indiscretion. Who was he to judge her? But the pain of the new knowledge hurt all the same.

Abigail went on, her voice unsteady. "It happened last week. It was just once, but…" Leaning forward on the couch, she cradled her head in her slender hands. "It's been eating me alive."

He exhaled thoughtfully. "Abigail…"

She knew that tone all too well. "I betrayed you, Marshall. In the worst way possible. All this time, I thought you were having an affair with Mary, and… I don't know. Maybe I used that as an excuse for what I did. Not that I could ever excuse it…"

Marshall suddenly got to his feet. "What about us? Do you… do you want to try to…"

"Save our relationship?" Abigail finished quietly. She gave a small shake of her head. "I don't know, Marshall. And the truth is, I'm not that sad about it. What does that tell you?"

He hung his head slightly. "I'll pack my stuff this weekend."

"Marshall…"

With a wave of his hand, he gave her a sad smile. Then he walked out of the house, cursing his own stupidity and cowardice.

What a fool he was.

To Be Continued...

A/N: So not done yet... Please review!


	3. Deflection

In this chapter, a talk with Mark, a talk with Abigail, and both Mary and Marshall try to find their own answers. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

IPSIPSIPSIPS

Mary was just leaving the hospital for lunch when she saw Marshall weaving through the parked cars in front of the hospital. She stopped and gave him a small wave.

Marshall approached her with a small, sad smile. "Hey, Mare."

"Marshall. What's going on?"

"I…" His Adam's apple bobbed nervously as he tried to sort through all of the thoughts in his head. "Abigail had an affair."

Mary's eyes widened at that. The cheerleader slept with another guy? Her confusion was quickly replaced with anger, even though Marshall had cheated on her six weeks ago. "Is she…?"

"I'm moving out as soon as I can."

"Where are you going to stay?"

"Most likely in a hotel, until I can find an apartment." He despised the thought of living alone again. He loved familiarity and routine, having someone to come home to every night and snuggle with when he laid down in his bed. He was the husband type, but it was painfully clear that maybe no woman wanted to be his wife. He shook his head, trying to clear away the negativity from his head. "How are Brandi and the baby?"

"They're just fine," Mary answered, slightly puzzled by the sudden change in conversation. "Brandi is still sleeping."

"Well, she's not Superwoman," he said with a smile.

"No, she's not. That's me."

They both shared a quiet laugh, and Marshall thrust his thumb over his shoulder. "I need to get back to the office. I just wanted to see how you were holding up."

Mary waved a hand. "I'm fine. You and Brandi did all of the work."

"Actually, I just played catcher." Then, taking them both by surprise, he leaned over and kissed her cheek gently. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

All she could do was nod in response.

Smiling sweetly, Marshall turned around and walked away from her, leaving Mary drowning in a sea of confusion and longing.

* * *

After leaving the hospital, Marshall drove straight to the house he shared with Abigail. The house was silent as he unlocked the door and stepped inside. He could see that she had already started packing, and he heaved a heavy sigh. He had never wanted it to end this way. He truly did love Abigail, and he wanted to make a life with her. He wanted her to be his wife, and to be her husband, for the rest of their lives. Now she was gone, leaving him no way to even try to fix things between them.

Moving slowly through the house, he looked at pictures on the wall. They were happy, at one time. But then she issued him that ultimatum… cut all ties with Mary outside of work, or she was gone. He had been so desperate to make things work with her that he had gone to Mary and begged her to release him. Like things would somehow just be that easy. The look on Mary's face had almost destroyed him, and that night, he went to his favorite bar and drank until the bartender cut him off and gently told him to get the hell out of the bar, before he did something stupid. So he had left, stumbling along and not knowing where he was going until he somehow wound up on Mary's doorstep. When she opened the door, he was almost crushed with guilt and self-loathing. He had missed her so damn much. How could he have tried to cut her out of his life like that, even if it was at the demand of the woman he had wanted to marry? Before he could stop himself, he was kissing her. His lips tingled at the memory. He loved kissing Abigail, holding her and making love to her. But holding Mary, kissing her and making love to her… it was indescribable. She made him feel needed and wanted.

He came to a stop just inside of his bedroom, and something inside of him snapped when he realized that Abigail's clothes were missing. With a quiet moan, he grabbed a suitcase and began shoving clothes and other items into it. Once it was full, he slammed it shut and carried it outside, to his truck. He tossed the suitcase into the passenger's seat, then climbed into the driver's seat and pulled out his phone. His fingers trembled as he found Stan's number and held the phone up to his ear.

"Stan? It's Marshall." He shoved the keys into the ignition. "I have a problem, and I need some time off."

* * *

Brandi awoke slowly her hospital, her mind foggy and her body in pain. Slowly everything came back to her, and she looked around. Beside her bed, her baby girl lay sleeping in a clear isolette. As carefully as she could manage, Brandi sat up and leaned over, scooping her daughter up in her arms.

Mary came back into Brandi's hospital room to find Brandi sitting up in her bed and holding her newborn daughter. She smiled at her younger sister. "Hey, Squish. How are you feeling?"

"A little sore," Brandi murmured, unable to tear her eyes away from her new daughter.

"That's normal." Mary sat down in the chair by her sister's bed. "Have you thought of a name for the little monkey?"

Brandi let out a soft laugh at her sister's chosen nickname. "I have, in fact." She kissed her daughter's forehead, then looked at her big sister. Her blue eyes shined. "I named her Alexis Mary Manna."

"Where the hell did you get the name Manna?" Mary chose to go after the third name, instead of the obvious second.

"You and Marshall were there for me and Alexis. You saved our lives."

"Squish, women have been delivering babies for thousands of years. You would have been fine."

"No, we wouldn't have. You both saved us, and I wanted to name her after both of you. Your name was easy, but there isn't really a feminine version of Marshall, except Marsha." Brandi made a face. "But Manna is pretty, it's almost the same as Mann, and it means something unexpected but wanted." She smiled lovingly at her daughter. "She was the last thing in the world I expected, but I can't imagine my life without her now."

Her words touched Mary. When she least expected it, Brandi could be very deep and insightful. "Fine. Marshall will love the whole Manna thing. But you aren't naming her after me."

"That's the great thing about being an adult and having a baby. I can do whatever I want. And I want to name my baby after you," Brandi said smugly.

"Brandi…"

"You're not going to win this argument, Mare."

"Doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying, Squish."

"Fine." Brandi looked down at her newborn daughter. "She's so perfect, Mary. I love her so much."

"That's natural. She's your daughter." Mary leaned back in the chair.

Brandi couldn't help studying her older sister. "What's wrong, Mar?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Something's bothering you. Spill." Brandi shifted Alexis to her shoulder and gently patted her back. But she kept her eyes on her sister.

Mary shook her head. "Nothing's wrong."

Brandi sighed, shaking her head slightly. She knew her sister better than she would ever admit, and she could tell that something was troubling Mary. But what it was, she just couldn't put her finger on it.

Mary finally got up and leaned over, gently kissing her sister's cheek. "I'm going home for a while, Squish. Mom's been up here already, right?"

"Yeah. She said she'd be back tonight."

"Good." She pulled away from the bed. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"I will," Brandi promised.

"Both of you, behave yourselves." Mary wagged a finger at her sister and new niece. "I'll call you later."

"Okay."

Giving her sister another reassuring smile, Mary slipped out of the hospital room, her hand resting lightly on her stomach. Suddenly she desperately wanted to see her daughter, and she wasn't sure why.

* * *

Mark Stuber smiled as he walked around with his little daughter in his arms. He had never expected to have a baby with Mary, but the moment he first laid eyes on Norah, he knew that he was in love. She was so beautiful and tiny, so perfect, pure and innocent. He kissed her head and sighed softly. He would have liked to work things out with Mary and settle down with her, but he knew that he wasn't the right man for her. Anyone who watched her with her partner, Marshall Mann, could see that. It was just a matter of time before Mary and Marshall figured it out.

Norah squealed and flailed her arms, babbling happily. "Mmm… ba!"

He laughed, drawn from his thoughts. "That's what your mom tells me, kiddo." He couldn't resist kissing her sweet forehead. As much as he had enjoyed his life before Norah, now he couldn't imagine life without her. And to him, that was a very good thing.

A knock on the front door drew his attention away from his little daughter. "Looks like someone's here, munchkin. Let's see who it is." He walked over to the door and opened it.

Mary was standing on his doorstep, a strange expression on her face.

"Mary?" Mark couldn't hide his surprise at her unexpected presence. "Is everything okay?"

"Uhm, yeah…"

Reaching out, he gently grasped her shoulder and pulled her inside. Then he closed the door. "Are you okay, Mary?"

Mary leaned over and kissed Norah's forehead, and Mark recognized the deflective move.

"I just wanted to see Norah."

"Right." Mark met Mary's eyes. "I know you better than that."

She wanted to scowl, to yell at him that he didn't have the first clue about her. Only Marshall knew her so well. But Mark _did_ know her, and that unnerved her. Getting close to other people only ended in disaster and heartache. Why risk it? "I slept with Marshall."

Mark's eyes widened noticeably, and it was several moments before he could finally form a coherent sentence. "You slept with Marshall? When?"

"Six weeks ago."

"Isn't he engaged to that detective?"

"Abigail. She broke up with him today." Mary still didn't know how she felt about that. She wanted Marshall to be happy. If he tried to reconcile with Abigail, then she would support his decision. But what if he didn't want to reconcile with Abigail? She didn't dare hope.

Mark ushered Mary over to the couch and sat down with her. "You don't seem that broken up about it."

Mary sat down with Mark. "I don't know how I feel about it," she admitted.

He smirked. "Mary, when have you ever been uncertain about anything?"

She snorted, but he had a point. She always had an opinion on everything. "Okay, I guess I'm not heartbroken about it. I want to be with Marshall."

"You do?"

She exhaled deeply. "I want Marshall to be happy. And if he's happiest with Abigail…"

"…you'll spend the rest of your life miserable, because you won't tell him how you really feel," Mark continued for her. "You want what's best for him, and that's noble. But is it really worth spending the rest of your life wondering 'what if'?"

His words were brutally honest, and they struck a deep chord within her. Could she spend her entire life wondering what could have happened with Marshall, what kind of life they could have had together? Could she put herself through that heartache every day, only to settle for some guy whom she would forever compare to Marshall, to the standards he had unknowingly set for her?

Suddenly she stood up again, bending down to briefly kiss her daughter's cheek. "Are you two okay for a while?"

Mark gave her a confused look. "She's my daughter. Of course we're okay."

"Great. I have something I need to do."

A knowing smile touched his lips. "Go, Mary."

They shared a brief look before Mary spun around and all but run to the door. She cast one last look over her shoulder before she ran outside.

The door slammed, and Mark settled back into the couch with his baby girl. He gave her a smile, and she grinned toothlessly at him in return.

"Your mom can be pretty smart, when she wants to be."

* * *

On the way to Marshall's home, Mary's phone started to vibrate. Out of habit, she grabbed it and looked at the screen.

Stan.

Shaking her head, she tossed the phone aside and gripped the steering wheel tightly. The job could wait. Right now, her mind was focused on a much more pressing issue, and trying to figure out how to resolve it.

In record time, she managed to reach Marshall's house. She was so caught up in figuring out what to say that she missed Abigail's car sitting in the driveway. She parked and jumped out of the driver's seat, her feet landing firmly on the ground. Her heart started beating faster as she made her way to his front door.

He had once told her that she never needed to knock; she was his partner and best friend, and she was always welcome in his home. That was before Abigail, of course. She had always tried to be civil around Abigail, at least for Marshall's sake. She truly wanted him to be happy. But she wanted to be happy as well. She pushed the door open without bothering to knock.

Abigail as standing in the middle of the living room, and she spun around when the door opened without warning.

Both women stared at each other, suddenly uncomfortable. Marshall meant so much to both of them, in such different ways. He was Mary's best friend, the other part of her soul. To Abigail, he was the man she loved, the other part of her heart, and she had broken what they had. She had told him that she wasn't so sad about ending their engagement, but it was a lie. She loved him, and having that affair had been the worst mistake of her life. It had just taken the look on Marshall's face for her to realize what she had done.

Abigail was the first to speak. "What are you doing here?" Her tone was hard, catching Mary by surprise.

Mary quickly recovered and shot back, "I think the question is, what are _you _doing here? You dumped my partner. Shouldn't you be shacked up with your little boy toy?"

"Don't give me that holier-than-thou routine, Mary. I know he's in love with you. You won. And you know what? You could have made things a hell of a lot easier on everyone if you had just said something two years ago."

Once again, Mary was caught off-guard by Abigail's bold declaration. "What?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Mary. Marshall has loved you since he met you, but he never said anything because there was never a good time. You were engaged, or you were with that detective, or you just weren't available. Or at least, he thought you weren't. He's a good man, and he would never stand in the way of your happiness. But you couldn't do the same for him."

Mary's feathers were instantly ruffled. "Don't you dare blame me for the mess you created…"

"No. He was a mess before I came along. I just made the mistake of trying to fix him." Abigail shoved another book into her duffle bag, then zipped it up and slung it over her shoulder. "But make no mistake about this, Mary. I love him, more than anything. I screwed up one time, and it cost me dearly. I've always had to fight for him, and right now is no different. If he'll have me back, I _will _go to him." She absently twisted the engagement ring on her left ring finger. He had given it to her with such high hopes, and she had been overjoyed when he had. But that joy was quickly overshadowed by the jealousy and resentment she felt toward the woman standing in front of her now. She had tried so hard for so long to work past that resentment. She understood partners and the unique relationship that they often had. Partners had to trust each other with their lives, and quite often they laid their lives on the line for each other. It was an intense relationship that evolved from practically nothing, and often ended only at the cruel hands of death.

So why couldn't she get over it?

Mary moved past the petite brunette. "Is Marshall here?" she demanded impatiently. She refused to take Abigail's bait. She came to see Marshall, not to beat the living hell out of the woman she wrongly blamed for so many of her problems.

"He's not here. I assumed he went to you."

Before Mary could blink, Abigail was out the door and gone. The slam of the front door raised goosebumps on Mary's arms.

When she could finally move, Mary went into Marshall's bedroom, on the off chance that Abigail was lying and Marshall really was there. But the house was empty, and as she walked outside, she pulled out her phone and punched in a number that was all too familiar to her.

The phone rang three times before his voicemail finally answered. She listened to the familiar message, and when the tone sounded in her ear, she was almost deafened.

"Marshall, it's me. I need to talk to you." She waited a few moments. "Please call me back." Ending the call, she climbed behind the wheel and sighed.

It was then that she realized she had used the word please.

* * *

Marshall heard his phone ring, and he retrieved it from the passenger's seat. He looked at the screen.

Mary.

With a heavy sigh, he set the phone back down. He wasn't ready to talk with her just yet. He wasn't strong enough to have that conversation, and he wasn't sure if he would ever be.

So he just drove.

* * *

After a couple of hours of aimless driving and several more unanswered calls to Marshall's cell phone, Mary wound up back at the hospital where her sister and new niece were. As she climbed out of the vehicle, her steps were unsteady. Marshall wasn't answering his phone, leaving her to wonder where he was, and if he was okay.

Of course he wasn't okay! He and Abigail had just broken up. The woman he was going to marry had cheated on him, but she had to remind herself that they had also had an affair long before Abigail betrayed him. Mary was at a loss, an extremely rare occurrence for her. Marshall was out there alone and hurting, and for possibly the first time in their relationship, she desperately wanted to console him. She tried to think of somewhere, anywhere he might go, but she came up empty.

Finally she stepped away from her vehicle, her feet unsteady. Losing herself in a visit with Brandi and little Alexis might not be the healthiest thing; she really needed to see Marshall and try to sort all of this out. But until he answered his phone, that wasn't going to happen.

"What did we do, Marshal?"

* * *

Marshall drove his truck until the sun had long since disappeared, and his eyes were blurry from lack of decent sleep. It was only when he started to swerve that he finally pulled over. By now, he was sure that Stan had told Mary he was gone, and knowing Mary, she was tracking him. He hadn't told Stan where he was going, but Stan had told him to take all of the time he needed. He was grateful to him for that, because he had no idea how long it would take for him to sort through the mess in his head.

Before he left, he withdrew some money from the bank, then ditched his credit cards. Mary would be searching for him, and she would most likely find him. But he wasn't going to make it easy for her.

He found a little motel a few miles down the road. It was nondescript and took cash, so he parked his truck out of the way before finding his room and unlocking the door.

The room was dark and musty, but the bed was surprisingly clean. He managed to pull his boots off before collapsing into the bed, and he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

* * *

After another visit with Brandi and the baby, Mary wearily made her way home, only stopping by Mark's to collect Norah. She knew that Mark could handle their daughter on his own for the night, but she had an inexplicable need to have her daughter close, and she indulged it.

She made it home just after midnight, and after tucking Norah into her crib, she took a brief shower. Then she called Marshall once more before climbing between her sheets. He still wasn't answering, as she suspected. She was exhausted and nauseous, but her thoughts of Marshall and where he might be kept her awake long after her head found her pillow.

Where was he?

To Be Continued...

A/N: I know, Brandi's baby's name is way too cutesy. But it's so something I can see Brandi naming her child. Hope everyone enjoyed this. Please review!


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